DESIRE
by EvilCassy
Summary: No useless words or actions. No requests or promises. Nothing of this, at all. Nothing more or less than Desire.


_**DESIRE**_

_She_ was the Desire.

Hidden force that drew him as an invincible fair haired magnet.

During one night he thought to kill her. To grab his fingers around her elegant neck until the bone breakin', watching her crystal clear eyes first opening in terror and then gone empty and dull.

It was the only way to set himself free from that _Obsession._

But it would be impossible surprise her. She was always standing to attention, even if she was pretending to sleep by his side.

He mustn't trust in that gracious body that seemed quietly fallen asleep close to him: in just a minute she could flyied into a fury; a Banshee thirsty of blood. A razor-sharped claws lynx.

Things that he liked _a lot._ Maybe _too much._

He was simply _adoring _their dangerous games, their catlike stares at each other's eyes as they were fierces fighting for the same territory.

That was why _something_ running between them:

No-one was the prey, no one lowered the head, not even for just a moment.

No surrender. No pity.

He always thought to be _the one_ in the world. He remained completed wrongfooted the first time he met her, obviously during a fight. He was pleasantly astonished, indeed.

First there was the war.

_She was the enemy's right-hand._

Secondly, the challenge:

_She wasn't afraid of him at all. Her lips was curving, instead, in a delicious and sadistic smirk, at soon as she comprehend to have met someone could match her._

Then the challenge became a duel.

_A deathly fight. An hand to hand struggle that goes for hours. Amusement for cruel kids._

_Then her tongue licked the bleeding cut on his chest, a gift from her knife._

Finally exploded the Desire.

_Her damn, perfect body upon his._

Then everything ran out of control.

No useless words or actions. No requests or promises. Nothing of this, at all. Nothing more or less than _Desire._

There was so much _Desire_ in her icy eyes that he could barely breathe when he was in front of her.

He was obsessed of that sublime body's possession. He tasted every part of her silky skin, rejoicing not found other's man smell.

_She was his own_. And she have to continue to stand by him.

Why should she looks for another man, when she could have her own similar between her legs?

Her voice groaned, hoarse and panting: His name sounded so exiting pronounced by her.

She could arouse him as the smell of the battle, the explosion of a war or an order to start an attack.

Her tongue was running on his scars; his mouth on her bare breasts. Her savage kiss were always almost painful, as she wanted to get his life away from him.

She took the pleasure's pitch moaning loudly, while her nails slashing his back, driving him crazy. He couldn't stop to follow her in the mighty pleasure.

After that, breathless and faintly, Nina was more beautiful than ever.

She rose from the bed wiping drops of sweat away from her forehead, together with rebel locks of her golden hairs.

" I need a Shower" usually said, her voice still hoarse and warm. It was a kind of invitation, like a "_If you search me, you know where I'll be"_

But he had never followed her under the water. Just to annoy her, guilty to had have left him alone upon the sheets, while he tried to taking rest far from her soft breasts.

Nina was turning back fresh as a rose in the morning and softly pulled the sheets around her body, making her figure more inviting than ever – _with her bare neck so close to his fiery hands_.

She relaxed herself, falling – _or better, pretend to do_- in Morpheus's arms.

He continued to look at her. She knew that, but Sergei couldn't take his eyes away of her – _she was so inviting_- until he decided that he wouldn't kill her also for that night, finally took his own sleep – _not a deep one, it was better not to trust enough in Nina Williams._

Sergei Dragunov became more cruel than before.

More fierce.

More precise to complete his missions.

His commanders promoted him in a meantime, and he and Nina celebrated his promotion on the bedroom' s floor – _Too much was the fever for trying to reach the bed!_

He was a destruction machine.

His strength was the fuel, Nina the sparking plug and the war the spark that make working his engine.

_Such a perfect triangle!_

It was certainly strange, to conceive a relationship with that incredible woman only in a war background.

As if that Nina and the Battle were fulfilling each other, being complementary: without one, the other couldn't exist.

Without war and battles Sergei himself couldn't live.

But also Nina couldn't.

And both of them -_Nina and the war _- filled, create, complete the _Desire._

That bloody, savage, blessed curse that bond them.

* * *

_**Hi everyone!!!**_

_**Please be kind with me, I'm italian and even if I studied english for years and now I'm using it for job; it's pretty difficult for me to write a story in a foreign language!**_

_**DraNina pairing is quite common in Italian Tekken fandom, I'm curious to know if they could work also abroad!**_

_**Many thanks in advance for your feedbacks (if there will be some)!**_


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